Happy Accidents
by shell29bell
Summary: In life, there are no mistakes.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: *LOOK MA! NO HANDS!* This is unbeta'd and my attempt to write a love story. It will probably be a complete train wreck. I'm (unofficially) using WitFit prompts and I hope that's ok.

Stephenie Meyer owns all rights. and stuff.

I stand outside the apartment building looking up into the 3rd floor window where several shadows are visible against the blinds. The air is heavy, thick with the scent of rain. I mentally kick myself for waiting so long, but it has to be done tonight because, as of tomorrow, I'm homeless. Now that I know he's not alone, I hope I can pull him aside and talk to him without causing a scene. My palms are clammy and my heart feels as though it's been permanently lodged in my throat.

My naive, romantic heart envisions an ideal scene of teary admissions and chivalrous resolve.

Right now, what I really need is a prince charming and his white horse, and maybe, I think as another wave of nausea hits, a toilet.

My feet lead me forward and into the building that I vaguely remember. As I step onto the elevator I let myself remember all I can of my last night here.

The lights are bright and trailing. My blood beats a pulse through my body beginning at head and traveling in waves to my toes. It's scary and exciting. I'm so very high and wanting to taste every sensation. I'm wanted, if only for a night. His strong arms wrap around me, as he whispers the dirty things he wants to do to me. I blush as his hand glides along my skin and up into my shirt to cup my bare breast. I laughingly push him away and turn myself in to him, grinding my hips into his obvious arousal. Our moans fill the empty elevator as I melt into the heat of his mouth along my neck.

We never make it past the front door. He pushes me against the wall, our lips crashing together and our hands grabbing desperately. My skirt is jacked up around my waist and my panties pushed aside. He's quick and rough, his entire body goes limp as he finishes leaving me to see myself out.

The doors open and I swallow hard as anxiety threatens my already weak stomach. I slip a hand into my coat pocket and find the small package of crackers, and wrapped peppermints I now carry along with me everywhere.

"Full steam ahead", I tell myself, parroting the words my father uses when I'm reluctant to do something. I will my feet to move faster down the hall. The quicker I'm there, the quicker it's done.

I stand waiting for several seconds after knocking. I place a hand over my stomach in a vain attempt to quell the ever present urge to vomit, but it becomes more intense with each approaching footstep behind the door.

The door swings open, giving me a start is it reveals a man who is definitely not Emmett. He looks out at me curiously but with a friendly smile.

My mind races as I struggle to form the words needed, but am unable to say, to this stunning stranger.

I'm standing there like an idiot, even more embarrassed now that I think I have the wrong apartment, when he asks if I need help.

"Um," I stammer before continuing quietly, "I'm looking for Emmett..." and it's now that I realize I have no idea what his last name is.

His eyebrows rise in surprise but his smile never falters it's welcome as he ushers me in and offers to take my coat.

He has it in hand and swinging from a hanger aside all the others before I can tell him I'd rather keep it on.

I feel bare enough as it is, and now I've lost my last comfort.

I hear Emmett call out from the living room and I begin to fidget. Edward, I assume from Emmett's yell, extends his arm indicating where I should walk before following behind me.

He raises an eyebrow in question at Emmett as the smile disappears from his face as soon as I step out from behind Edward.

"What's up?" Emmett asks, nonchalantly turning back towards the TV to watch the football game that had begun again. My heart drops as I realize this isn't going to go well at all.

I try to make my request to talk to him sound casual, but my voice betrays me and I can barely whisper, "I need to talk to you".

"Ok..." he drawls, his tone bored and the leggy blond on his lap smirks.

"Alone," I pleads, my voice beginning to take on a desperate edge as my previous hopes die and mortification replaces them.

I realize now that Emmett won't doesn't care about me or what I need to tell him. After weeks of telling myself that his schedule kept him too busy to return my phone calls, convincing myself that he couldn't be reached so I needed to come to him and expose myself now, in front of his friends and the stunning blond he had draped across his legs, I begin to get angry.

Emmett sits there, continuing to ignore me and making a show of how bored he is with me, the young girl who's close to tears in the middle of his home.

"Emmett, please," I ask once more, my voice cracking with emotions boiling toward the surface, straining to break free, as I struggle to keep myself calm

"Whatever you have to say to me you can say to everyone"

I stand amidst these strangers; couples curled together on the couch, watching everything, the football game on the TV long forgotten and prepare to confess. I just want to leave as soon as possible now that I know I'm truly alone. I wonder why I even bothered coming. I should have just taken care of this on my own. It's my own stupid fault anyway.

I take a deep breath.

"Emmett, I'm pregnant."

This get his attention. He turns to face me incredulity painting his face.

His voice is calm, but it does not hide the bite of his words.

"Why the fuck did you barge in here and tell me this in front of my brother and my friends?"

I see red. I always thought it was an expression, but my eyesight narrows into a tunnel like view, a red haze around everything I see. "I tried to call you, asshole" I bite back, my confidence returning in answer to the venom in Emmett's words.

The angry tension in the room between Emmett and I is almost palpable. Edward clears his throat in an attempt to get Emmett's attention and insists to everyone that giving us privacy is probably a good idea, but Emmett flicks his hand towards his brother in an annoyed gesture.

Emmett gives an exasperated sigh and finally pauses the live broadcast. The silence that engulfs the room is crushing and the emotional strain becomes too much for me. I wince as the adrenaline wanes and my stomach rolls. My eyes dart around the room as I seek out where the nearest bathroom is. I cover my mouth as I run and make it safely to the bathroom with enough time to slam the door before kneeling in front of the toilet and expelling the contents of my stomach.

I cry silently as I sit on the bathroom floor and listen to the muffled, yet emotionally charged, voices coming from the other room. I'm trying to gather my nerves for the mortifying exit that awaits me, when a soft knock startles me

One of the girls stands, hovering in the doorway. She offers me a small smile t before asking me if there is anything I need.

I shake my head.

"I... I just need to leave," I manage to mutter as I walk around her and head for the front door. As I come into the room, I notice Emmett standing with his back toward everyone and his blond scowling in my direction. _Fuck her_, I think.

I rush from Emmett's apartment realizing too late that I've left my coat tucked between the others hanging in the closet. There's no way I'm going back in there. The only important thing in my jacket is my ID and I can get another one. I make my way back home through the cold night. The wind has picked up and it whips around my body. I make myself numb to the heartache and fear because, I tell myself, it's the only way I'll survive this.

I continue walking, my thoughts scattered. Scenarios come and go on a continuous loop ,circling upon themselves until I'm back to where I began. I'm pregnant. Emmett is not going to be the man I thought he could be. I am alone.

I arrive, several blocks later, at the small house I share with Charlie. The windows are dark and even the porch light, Charlie's beacon of safety on nights I'm out late, is off.

The reality of this night is suddenly crashing down around me and I don't think I can not bear to wake up once more in a home that no longer welcomes me, but I have nowhere else to go. I quietly let myself in and climb the stairs to my bedroom.

Fully clothed, I lay down on my childhood bed and stare at the rocking chair in the corner. I release a stuttering breath, and fight back the sobs trying to push forth. A single tear betrays me and falls to my pillow. Finally, I'm able to quiet my thoughts and let exhaustion consume me.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: It's so good to 'see' you all again. Thank you for reading and not telling me I suck, yet. ;) It's still unbeta'd. Sorry.

Stephenie Meyer owns it all. And stuff.

The last time my father spoke to me was 3 days ago.

I'd come home from work, physically and mentally exhausted. I just wanted to pull on my sweats and crawl into bed. Instead, I found my father sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the white stick I'd tossed out just that morning.

There was no denying it was mine, so I didn't even bother. I hadn't even reached the point in my thoughts where I considered telling him, but it was now here.

Suddenly, every emotion and thought I'd been trying to hold back all day hit me like a tsunami. Anger, fear, and sadness surged forth, seizing my lungs until every breath was a ragged sob.

My father just sat there, watching me break down, without comment. His face was impassive, almost stone-like in its stillness. I wanted to beg and plead for him to listen, to let me explain what I could, and ask for his help, but most of all, for his forgiveness.

But I just stood there helplessly and cried.

He pushed his chair back suddenly, the sound of it scrapping against the floor causing me to flinch and begin to back away. He'd never hit me, but in this instance I wasn't so sure.

"I wanted so much more for you," he said.

"Daddy, please..." I wailed, but he just shook his head.

"You have 4 days to get out."

Since that night, I've made sure to be gone while he's home and I'm pretty sure he's been doing the same thing.

Unfortunately, today, we're both here. Other than running to the bathroom for morning prayers to The Porcelain Goddess, I've been in my room. But I have to get ready for my shift soon and he doesn't seem to be leaving.

The smell of bacon and coffee is begins to infiltrate my room making me both hungry and nauseas. Hunger wins, and I'm down the stairs and filling my plate before I can think twice.

My mouth is watering, but as soon as I place the hot, greasy bacon in my mouth, my throat tightens and I gag. My dad pushes his plate away muttering, "Jesus Christ".

I take several deep breaths and try not to glare at him through my teary eyes. I just want the bacon and some support from someone would be nice, too. At this point, I can't even stop the tears to save my life. They well and spill over in continuous rivulets that drip onto the table in front of me.

My father stands and removes our plates from the table before moving to the living room and turning on the TV.

I've been dismissed.

With only an hour left before my shift, I hurry upstairs to finish gathering the few important items I can fit in my bag. I text Angela to let her know I'm leaving soon, and then deny her returned offer to pick me up. I already have to ask for her couch, I don't want to be too indebted to her. As I make a last sweep of my room, my eyes land on the small snow globe my mother sent me for my 16th birthday. Inside the glass, a large castle is nestled among rolling hills and pink ceramic roses climb the base. She'd written a long note about princesses and white knights and how she'd finally met the love of her life and she was living in Jacksonville with him.

I threw away the note but kept the snow globe because, until a few days ago, I believed in fairytales and I knew that one day I'd get mine.

I wind the key on the bottom and listen to the song play out until the last slow, distorted note hangs in the air. Then I open my palm and watch it shatter on the ground at my feet.

My bag is by the door and I'm cursing my keychain while I struggle to wrangle the house key from it. My thumb is red and the nail is cracked before I finally give up and toss the whole cluster onto the entry table.

Fuck it. My earlier sadness has morphed into a fiery anger and I curse hormones and this day that needs to be over already.

I'm grumbling under my breath as I yank open the door, but my eyes go wide at the sight before me.

Edward and Emmett are standing on my father's porch.

"What are you doing here?" I whisper and frantically look over my shoulder towards the man in the recliner. It's too late, he's seen them too.

"Go ahead and come in gentleman," Charlie calls wearily from his chair. He doesn't want to talk to me about any of this, but he's apparently willing to talk to them. Nice.

Edward gently pushes Emmett to take a step forward. He steps around me, staring at his shoes the whole time. In my mind, I stick out my foot and laugh as he falls, face first, into the floor. It's totally immature, but I can't help wanting to see him hurt as much as I do and in a way that he can understand.

Instead, I follow them into the room and do my best to get out of everyone's way.

My dad Charlie is not a large man, but his presence can fill a room. That, combined with the reason we're all here, makes it hard for me to breathe.

Edward holds out his hand to my dad, but he just stares at Edward who then begins to shift uncomfortably. Edward changes tactics now and offers me the jacket I left behind last night.

I take it with a quiet thank you and we all stand together, silent and awkward.

"Sit", Charlie barks, causing Edward and Emmett to immediately drop onto the small couch behind them. Edward looks over at Emmett expectantly.

I pace quietly in front of the window, shooting glances between my father and Emmett. Edward catches my eye and tilts his head as if to ask if I want to sit. I quickly shake my head and continue pacing while chewing on the side of my thumb.

Edward kicks Emmett's foot and he finally raises his eyes, his demeanor is obstinate. It's obvious he's here against his will.

Charlie is not impressed. "Well?"

Emmett shrugs. "Abortions aren't cheap, but I can pay for half."

I give an astonished cry and stop pacing at Emmett's callousness. I hadn't even considered the option despite losing my place in Charlie's home.

"Well, what do you want from me? Don't I have a say? Did you drop this on me thinking I'd be happy about it?"

"Fuck you!" I told you because I thought you had a right to know. I don't even know what I'm going to do right now, I just... I just needed some fucking support. Now you've all made me late for work."

I don't bother looking back as I cross the lawn lugging my duffel bag and heading towards the only thing I have left.

I'm ten minutes late for my shift, and Aro is pissed, until he sees my face and the large bag I'm dragging behind me. He wisely steps aside before I can run him over on my way to clock in.

As soon as Angela serves her table, she meets me in the back room and folds her arms around me, holding me tight.

"I thought you were going to call me last night, after..."

"I know," I sigh into her shoulder, "it was so bad, Ang."

"My place is yours. We'll figure this out."

I sag against her in relief. I knew I wouldn't have to ask, but it's still nice of her to say it first. I pull away and give her the best smile I can manage, which makes her laugh.

"Maybe we can persuade Aro to find something for you to do in the back tonight so you don't scare away any customers."

I snort. It's probably a good idea.

"Thanks, Ang."

She smiles and gives my hand a quick squeeze before she pulls me through the swinging doors.

Later that night, as we sit together on her couch picking through a take-out container from work, I tell her everything.

Talking about it doesn't make it better, but it doesn't make it worse. Right now, I'm just glad that I finally have someone to look out for me.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: As always, thank you for reading. It's still unbeta'd. Sorry.  
Stephenie Meyer still owns it all. and stuff.

Angela's voice is strained and she's insisting I go to the emergency room. She'll continue arguing but she has to know by now that it's no use.

I brush the hair back from my damp forehead and she smooth's it into the bunch in her hands.

"I have an appointment…" I manage to mutter before I'm heaving over the basin again.

Various cups and glasses filled with Gatorade, peppermint tea, and water litter the table top in front of us. I can't keep any of it down. My sides ache and I just want to sleep.

"You have an appointment in 3 days, Bella!"

"Your voice is hurting me."

I kick off the covers and lay down, hugging the basin as the room spins around me.

A while later, several voices fill the apartment, but they're too quiet to understand. The words run together in a constant stream of soft, reassuring murmurs and rough, insistent whispers.

A cool hand touches my cheek but I can't even open my eyes. I hum in appreciation of the gentle touch and the relief it gives me. I'm so hot.

"Bella?" the voice is comforting but too close and so loud to my ears that I whimper, "God, she's burning up!"

"She's been refusing to go to the ER," Angela tells the stranger.

Something cool and wet is laid on my forehead and I cringe away from the sensation.

"Why?" there is that voice again, if I could just open my eyes… they ache so badly.

"Well, the trust fund hasn't kicked over yet" and Angela's sarcastic bite makes me chuckle.

"Good one, Ang" I manage to croak. My throat is so dry, I really need a drink, but just the thought makes me gag.

I hear feet scrambling towards me and finally will my eyes to open. Angela is there holding the basin, but looking past me, she doesn't look happy.

My first thought is to apologize. I'm pretty sure she's mad at me since she must be missing work to be here. I try to sit up but even that small act exhausts me, silver stars dance and spin in front of my eyes, and my heavy head drops back onto the pillow.

"Where's your brother, now?" she seethes.

"Who's brother, Ang?" She turns her attention back to me. Her expression is apologetic, "I called Ben to help me and…"

I hear someone grumble about wasting time behind me. It's not Ben, but I recognize the voice. I just can't place it.

"Bella, do you think you can get dressed if I help you?" Angela is back in my line of sight, her brow furrowed. She's not angry now, but I wish she'd stop getting in my face. I just want to sleep. I'm suddenly so very tired.

I struggle to keep my eyes open and my thoughts clear. She's still talking but her voice drones into a monotonous murmur. My body feels so warm and so heavy even as I float into oblivion.

I can't remember the last time that I woke up and wasn't queasy. It was obviously before the pregnancy, but morning sickness has ruled my every waking hour for so long, it seems like it's always been there.

I take a deep breath before I open my eyes. Everything I've read about morning sickness, cautions against moving too soon after waking. The nausea has been ingrained in my being for so long, I just know it's only a matter of time before it hits so I savor the moments I lay here and my stomach is quiet.

As my mind wakes further, I'm aware of the unfamiliar feel of the bed beneath me and the quiet, but incessant beeping by my head.

My eyes snap open as I put the pieces together. As if she senses I'm awake, a nurse walks in. She flips a switch and the area near my head is illuminated by a low light. I watch her move silently beside me, checking tubing and screens before she faces me and asks in a quiet voice how I'm feeling.

Angry.

I feel angry and betrayed. I don't think that's the feeling the nurse is looking for, so I manage to tell her I feel better. After all, it's been several minutes and I still don't feel the urge to vomit. In my eyes, that's a fucking miracle.

After taking my temperature, she flashes a quick smile before she leaves and flips the switch that plunges my bed into darkness once again.

I feel like a small child that's been told to go to bed when it's obvious I'm not tired. I wonder if I have a TV in my room but I have no clue how I would even turn it on. I can feel buttons all along the side rail of my bed but it's too dark to tell what they do. With my luck I'd push an emergency button that summons everyone on the floor to my room in a dramatic rush, yelling about codes and crash carts a la Grey's Anatomy.

I sit for several minutes, staring into nothing, until boredom gets the best of me. My mind, with nothing better to do, cuts through my medicated fog with melancholy thoughts. My father's disappointed face appears in my mind followed by Emmett's hateful sneer. I begin to wonder how soon my life will return to normal if I just get rid of it, but the thought causes a sharp pain in my chest and I know I could never follow through with it.

I quietly sob into my pillow until even the effort of bringing forth tears is just too much.

Through tired eyes, I watch the peaks of my every heartbeat flash on the monitor beside me, until their rhythmic pulse, and the gentle shushing of some unseen appliance behind me, finally lull me to sleep.

I'm sitting up and poking at a bowl full of Jell-O squares when Angela peaks her head into my room. I try to give her my best glare, but she just rolls her eyes at me. I'm not really mad at her anymore. From what the doctor told me, I was so dehydrated I could have died. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to return this particular favor, though.

Despite my late night freak out I'm feeling pretty good this morning, if a little weak. It's surprising what an IV and a good night's sleep will do for you. Not to mention being able to keep stuff down for longer than 10 minutes.

She sits next to me on the bed and reaches for a wiggly chunk.

"Hey!"

She laughs and squishes the piece between her teeth, in and out, until her smile suddenly falls and she quickly closes her mouth and swallows.

"I'm so sorry! Are you ok? I didn't think…"

I realize then just how well the medication they have me on is working. Any other time I would have been racing to the nearest sink or toilet due to her display.

I pat her knee in reassurance, "I'm ok, really."

She relaxes beside me in obvious relief. She reaches again towards my tray table and I'm about ready to stab her with my fork, but she bypasses my Jell-O and instead, reaches for the grainy black and white slip of paper.

"It looks like an alien," she says wrinkling her nose and squinting in concentration.

"It's a parasite," I mumble through a mouth full of Jell-O.

"Nice," she says laughing lightly.

After a few minutes of chit chat, Angela becomes quiet and I can tell by her hesitant manner that something is up.

I chug my lukewarm sprite while she gathers her thoughts, but before she can speak there's a knock at my door and I turn my head expecting my nurse. I want another soda and a huge cup of ice, but it's not my nurse.

Edward walks in slowly, both hands stuffed in his pockets. In the two times I've seen him, he's never seemed this unsure. He stops a few feet away from my bed and I take a moment to look him over. His hair is on end, his shirt is buttoned wrong, and his jawline is covered in scruff.

He looks like he slept in a chair.

My eyes widen and I look over at the rocking chair sitting in the corner of the room, a blanket draped over the arm. I remember the soft shushing I thought was coming from some machine behind me, but there is nothing but the chair.

"But why?" I'm too confused to be angry, and even if I was mad I'd have no idea why. "How did you even know I was here? Are you, like, stalking me now? Reporting to your brother how pathetic I am?"

"What? No!" He huffs, and pulls his hands from his pockets before dragging them through his hair in exasperation, his eyes are angry and boring into mine, "my brother may be a tool, but I'm not. I want to help you."

I look away, breaking under the intensity of our stand-off. I don't even know exactly what he's offering, but I want to take it and run. I want to return to my life knowing that everything is going to be ok, but my pride refuses to let me be a charity case.

"Look," I say, "I don't need your brother, and I especially don't need you tagging along trying to fix everything."

Angela places her hand on mine and I start. I'd forgotten she was even there.

"Bella, just listen to him, you can only do so much alone and he has the resources you need."

"What the fuck, Ang? You've both got it all figured out then? Why did you even bother asking me?"

I've never seen Angela angry, but she' a sight to behold. Her cheeks redden, her eyes shine, and she begins sputtering in indignant disbelief.

I laugh. I can't help myself. It's horrible of me, and very obviously the wrong reaction, because now not only is she pissed, but she's crying.

I slap my hand over my mouth, chagrined at my knee jerk reaction. I didn't mean to hurt her feelings.

"I can only do so much, Bella, and it's clear you can't even take care of yourself. Left alone, you'd be dead. After I begged Aro to let you keep your job, after I held your hair while you puked, after Edward had to carry you –_unconscious_ - to Ben's car… I had to talk to someone. I said we'd work it out, and this is it."

I feel thoroughly abandoned, "So this is it? I've been with you a week and you're giving up on me?"

Angela's anger leaves her as quickly as it came. I can see now that she's as tired as Edward and I feel like a complete bitch. "No, Bella. No. I'm just calling in reinforcements."

I work my bottom lip as I look between her and Edward. My best friend in the world is admitting defeat and a virtual stranger is offering help. I don't want to rely on anyone but myself, and I don't want to be indebted to anyone, but there is no sense in jumping to conclusions when I don't even know what he's offering.

I can't help but think that in trusting him I'm making the biggest mistake ever, aside from the drunken one night stand that has inevitably brought me to this place in time, but I take a deep breath and ask him just what he has in mind.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all for reading.

Stephenie Meyer owns it all. And stuff.

Edward and I wait together for the nurse to bring my discharge papers. It's a hurry up and wait scenario, but I pass the time flipping channels on the tiny TV bolted to the wall across the room. I can feel Edward's eyes on me, but I'm still mulling everything over. He's not only offered to pay, well, to have Emmett pay for this overnight hospital stay, but he wants me to come and stay at the apartment they share. I insist on paying something but he's not committing to that idea. I get the distinct feeling that there won't be much compromising. He's giving me an offer I'd be silly to refuse.

After my third lap around the 10 channels I have, I land on some small claims court show and turn to Edward.

"So what does Emmett think of all this?" I don't think I even want to know the answer, but I can't help my curiosity. I want to know what kind of fire I'll be walking into.

He looks away from me, "I've been texting him about what's going on, but he hasn't responded."

"Oh."

"Yeah… just, when we get there, let me handle it, ok?"

I look down at my hands, the last thing I want to do is 'handle' Emmett, but I don't want his anger directed at me again.

Edward comes over and sits beside me on the bed. His body is warm and his presence is comforting. His finger is soft against my chin as he nudges my face up to meet his.

"Hey," his voice is quiet as he reassures me, "I said I would help you and I mean it. I'm not going to throw you to the wolves, ok?"

I feel the sting of tears and nod my head, he pulls me towards him and I sniffle into his shirt.

I laugh and curse my hormones as I move to pull away, but he holds me for a moment longer before releasing me.

He uses his thumb to wipe an errant tear and then turns to watch the TV. We sit silently side by side, until the nurse arrives to free me.

The apartment is empty when we arrive and I can tell he's just as relieved as I am. After a quick tour, he leads me to his room which, as of today, is mine.

He opens the door and groans. I look around him and laugh, his room is a mess and I can tell he's embarrassed.

"I've been staying at my girlfriend's since that night" he admits, "just give me a minute."

I walk in even as he tries to close the door to keep me out.

Some of the drawers are half open and all of them have some article of clothing hanging from them. It looks as though he made a mad dash and grab that night. His bed is large, full of fluffy pillows and sheets that look so soft. The plump mattress beckons me and I sit on the edge rubbing my hand along the cool linens as I watch him shuffle things around. He walks into the attached bathroom and comes out carrying an overflowing clothes hamper. As he walks by mumbling about laundry, a pair of boxers falls to the floor.

I pick them up and follow him towards the laundry closet located in the hallway beside his room.

His face goes red when he sees what I'm handing him and he snatches them. He can't even look me in the eye as he shows me how the washer works. I can't help but laugh loudly.

"I thought you said she was sick?"

The smile fades from my face at the sound of his voice and Edward stops what he's doing to face his brother.

"She is," Edward answers, obviously displeased, "very sick."

Emmett gives a grunt and heads into the living room. From there he calls out, "are we talking, or what? I have shit to do."

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, bracing myself for this conversation. Edward follows close behind me, keeping a hand on my lower back. I think of it as his quiet way of telling me he's here and I find comfort in the contact.

He's shown me nothing but care and good intentions and I find myself already beginning to trust him. I make a mental note to ask him later why he and his brother are so different. I suspect one of them was dropped as a baby.

Emmett is sitting on the couch when we arrive, and at first glance, I remember just what attracted me to him in the first place. His face is relaxed and his grease stained shirt stretches just so across his broad shoulders. I remember that night in quick flashes. He was the life of the party, and I was the one who caught his eye. He was thoughtful and attentive.

He's looking down at his phone and he smiles at something before pocketing it and looking up at us. Even as his face changes at our arrival, I hope that one day we can have civil conversations and maybe even become friends.

Unfortunately, today is not that day.

An awkward silence surrounds us. Edward has asked me to let him handle it, so I sit and fidget with the seam of my jeans. Edward watches Emmett expectantly, waiting for him to start talking, I guess.

He finally breaks.

"What? What do you want me to say Edward? Thank you for cleaning up my mess, _again_? Thank you. Thank you for being everything I can't be. You're such a man."

Emmett's voice is dripping with sarcasm but Edward isn't fazed.

"This isn't about you this time, Emmett. This is about helping a girl who's scared and alone. I can't help but hope that maybe seeing her go through this will make you a bit more human. After all, if it wasn't for the kindness of a certain stranger, there's no telling where you and your mother would have ended up."

I watch as the color drains from Emmett's face. His tough exterior cracks and for a split second I see a softer, vulnerable side. I blink and his shield is back in place.

"Whatever. Just don't get clingy," he orders, his eyes on me.

I snort so hard it hurts and bite my tongue. I have so many retorts to his biting remarks, but I didn't accept this offer to come here and spar with him non-stop.

"Are we done then?" It's not really a question. He's off the couch and heading to the door without another look back.

Edward sighs and rubs his hands over his face several times before turning to me. He gives me a small apologetic smile.

"Are you hungry? I've got some work to take care of but we can go to the store in a bit if you're up for it or we can order in…"

I hadn't really thought of eating since we left the hospital. The medicine they've given me has definitely curbed the nausea, but I'm still nervous to push my limits.

I'm about to tell him we can go to the store later, when I'm suddenly hit with the most overwhelming desire for a cheese steak sandwich. I can practically taste the grilled onions, greasy mystery meat and tangy cheese. My mouth waters in anticipation and I moan.

As soon as the sound escapes my mouth, Edward is kneeling in front of me, his eyes frantically searching my face.

I laugh at his expression and quickly reassure him that I'm OK, even if he did just make me feel like a ticking time bomb.

Deciding his work can wait for a few more minutes, Edward leaves me to get settled while he goes to get our lunch.

Limits be damned, the rate at which I wolf down my sub would make a champion eater blush in embarrassing failure. I pop the last onion in my mouth but stop myself from gathering the leftover cheese off the wrapper.

Edward is staring at me over his laptop with an amused expression, his own half-finished sub lying on the coffee table beside him.

I give a small shrug and he returns to his work giving me a few moments of uninterrupted staring time.

His brow furrows and relaxes as his eyes go over the text, his lips pout, and his fingers fly intermittently over the keys. The longer I watch him, the more I realize just how attractive he is and how different in looks and temperament he is from Emmett. Emmett is the dark to Edward's light; lighter hair, lighter eyes, lighter mood.

His eyes meet mine. He's caught me staring and I should look away, but I can't. I don't want to.

"Are you ok?" he asks and I'm touched at how much he seems to genuinely be concerned for me.

"I'm… I just… thank you," I finally manage to sputter out, "for everything."

"Especially the cheese steak." His voice is serious despite his smirk.

I laugh, "Yeah, especially the cheese steak."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for waiting. Still unbeta'd.

Stephenie Meyer still owns it all, except the storyline. That's mine.

I can't sleep.

I lay in Edward's bed, exhausted, but unable to close my eyes. I've counted sheep, turned on the little radio by the bed, and tossed and turned until the sheets are tangled between my legs and the pillows are scattered on the floor.

It's not like I have anywhere to be tomorrow. I'm on Doctor's orders to stay off my feet for at least one more day to gather my strength after being unable to hold anything down for so long.

I think about texting Angela, but a look at the clock tells me not to. She may be my best friend but even she wouldn't appreciate a text this late at night, or this early in the morning.

I get off the bed to gather the discarded pillows, again, when a blue glow under the door catches my eye.

I hesitate for a moment not wanting to come across Emmett, before I remember that Edward is supposed to be sleeping on the couch.

I'm kind of hoping he's awake but if he's not, a quick trip to the kitchen isn't out of the question.

I tip toe through the hallway following the flickering light of the TV.

I find Edward with a game controller in his hand and his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. The sound is off but the bright flashes show heads exploding from the heavy weaponry his character is wielding.

Edward turns his attention to the open laptop next to him and quickly types before turning back to the game. I'm about to move onto the kitchen so I don't disturb him when he turns suddenly and yelps, dropping his controller onto the table.

I rush out an apology, my heart racing at his reaction and my embarrassment from startling him.

He shakes his head, "Its ok. What are you doing up, anyway? Are you feeling ok? Do you need anything?"

I laugh quietly, his overprotectiveness is endearing. "I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep and I saw the light. I'm just going to get a drink. I won't bother you."

He gets up and follows me anyway.

"I can do it myself," I whisper rolling my eyes at his overzealous hospitality.

He shrugs as he grabs a soda and extends a bottle of water towards me. I reach forward and grab the soda from his hand.

He huffs, but replaces the water and grabs another can for himself. I feel like the little sister who can get away with anything.

I sit with him on the couch and watch as he restarts his game. He must have forgotten to push pause when he came after me.

As the game loads, he turns to his laptop and begins typing, his fingers move faster as his jaw sets and he huffs. I glance over and although I can't read what he's typing I see it's a chat box and I catch his girlfriend's name. He forcefully hits enter and slams the lid of his laptop making me jump. I sit back but I can't help the look of guilt that comes over my face. I feel bad for snooping. Edward continues his game, shooting several rounds into one enemy before he throws his controller onto the table in front of us and flops back against the couch.

He turns towards me and opens his eyes. I can see now how tired he is.

"You look so tired," I whisper, "why are you still awake?"

"Tanya's out of town," he answers as if that explains everything.

"And," I prompt him not sure why that would keep him up late.

"I haven't talked to her in a few days and I wanted to say hi."  
"That's sweet," I admit, even though it makes me ache to think that I'm not worthy of that kind of devotion.

He shrugs and continues, "but she was mad that I wasn't at her place, and when I said there was no reason to be there and that I was helping you, she didn't take it very well."

_Oh_. The last thing I want to do is have Edward's relationship suffer because of me. I'm not his responsibility and I tell him that, but he just shakes his head.

"She's not jealous or anything, but she feels I do too much to help Emmett. I give too much. Maybe it's true," he confesses before breaking off into a huge yawn. "I just can't abandon someone who needs… anything. She calls me the Patron Saint of lost causes."

He looks as though he's embarrassed by his admission, I can see his ears redden in the glow of the TV, and I wonder if she was really referring to Emmett as the lost cause.

It's a noble quality to have, but I can see where it would take its toll.

Being on the other end takes a lot out of a person, as well, I think. I hate having to rely on other people to live and I promise myself that I'll work as much as I can and before this parasite is born, I'll be on my own. She can keep her Saint.

I won't let this affect anyone else. I can't.

Edward nods off beside me. On my way back to bed, I shut off the television and cover him with the blanket I grabbed off the back of the couch. I should get him to lie down, but if I do, it'll wake him and he looks so peaceful. I decide to let him be and one very long hour later, after another war with the pillows, exhaustion wins out and I fall into a dreamless sleep.

The next afternoon, Edward takes me to my first official prenatal visit. The look on Edward's face the first time we're congratulated keeps me giggling as I fill out the seemingly endless paperwork. By the time we're settled in the exam room, we've been congratulated so many times, we stop trying to correct people. Edward just smiles and says thank you before raising my hand and placing a soft kiss along my knuckles, his eyes full of mischief above his teasing smirk.

I want to pretend for just a moment that this is a happy occasion, but as the nurse closes the door behind her, the bubble pops and my chest begins to ache.

I pull my hand away and turn my face towards the wall to hide my tears. It's no use. Before I can wipe away the first deluge, he is wrapping me in his arms. I cling to him, my fists full of his shirt. I've never been so desperate to be held and although it should feel wrong, I don't let it. I let his arms comfort me and his warmth gives me strength.

My doctor is quick but thorough and before I know it, we're heading out the doors, my arms laden with pamphlets and goodie bags.

I've heard the heartbeat and I have an official due date: September 7th.

I stare out the window as Edward makes his way through town. I'm so lost in my thoughts, that I don't realize we've stopped. Edward's touch is soft and warm as his fingers gather mine in a quick squeeze.

"You said you wanted to get your schedule, right?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

Edward opens the door for me and follows close behind, still offering the comfort of his presence, but letting me lead the way.

I haven't been gone that long, but the sandwich shop is almost unrecognizable. It looks like Aro gave Angela the holiday decorating reigns. He's usually content with a few decorative window clings. Instead, every table is covered in a white tablecloth, candles and flowers are perfectly centered, and sparkly hearts dangle from the ceiling. It looks like cupid threw up in here.

I hate Valentine's Day. Working in this pseudo bistro may just kill me this weekend.

I promise Angela that I'll suck it up. After all, I need all the money I can get and the happier the customer, the more they tip.

She hands me a wad of cash along with my schedule.

I try to hand it back but she insists.

"Ang! I haven't even been here since last week!"

"It's your half of the tips," she insists pushing the money back into my fist and laughing, "shut up and go rest. It's going to be a long ass weekend."

When we get back to the apartment, I watch Edward as he packs a few more items of clothes to take over to Tanya's. I try to keep my face neutral, but inside, it feels like my heart has fallen into my toes.

He pulls me up from where I'm sitting on the couch and for the second time today, I'm in his arms. I take a deep breath, willing the tears to hold their assault until he's gone. I hate the way this parasite makes me such a weepy girl.

"The kitchen is stocked and you have my number. Emmett promises not to be a total dick…" he smirks down at me. I'm glad they're on speaking terms again. I haven't even seen Emmett due to his schedule but I'm sure that won't last long once I start working again.

I look away quickly. I can feel the tell-tale burning in my eyes and nose and I refuse to let him see me cry. He'll stay, I know he will, but he needs to get on with his life and I need to stop falling for him.

Without another word, he grabs his bag and walks out.

After a quick bathroom run, I make my way to the kitchen, before I get too hungry. I've gotten the nausea control down to a science and it's helped me keep everything down so far. I'd hate to end my streak now.

I'm shoulders deep into the fridge wondering when Edward had time to go get this much food, when I hear the front door open and close. I call out, thinking maybe Edward's returning to get something he forgot.

"No, it's me." I stiffen at his voice but turn to face him hoping my smile looks pleasant enough.

He remains in the doorway of the kitchen keeping his distance, but his shoulders are relaxed and he's fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

He motions towards the fridge "Is everything ok? I wasn't sure what you liked to eat…"

It dawns on me then, that this is Emmett's doing. I gape at him, too stunned to speak.

He gives me a small smile and shrugs before turning and heading to the living room.

I manage to whisper "Thank you" once my senses return.

I'm not foolish enough to think the hard parts are over, but it's a start.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: It's still unbeta'd. Thank you for reading. Always.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything except this story. It's mine.

Any heart softening that began with the full fridge was squelched later that night when I'm woken up by the unrestrained sounds of lust coming from the living room.

Knowing how early I have to get up in the morning, I try desperately to block it out. Unfortunately for me, Emmett has much more stamina when he's not intoxicated, and whoever he's fucking has reached an ear piercing level of exuberance. I swear dogs down the block are cowering over her pitch.

I look over at my door, making sure it's locked before I let loose with a scream of my own. I wait for a break in the shrieking before I throw my shoe at the door while I yell at them to shut the fuck up.

The abrupt silence that follows is hilarious. I bury my face in my pillow to stifle my laughter. I hear the front door slam and Emmett's heavy tread heading towards my door. I stop laughing.

This isn't going to be pretty.

He pounds against my door with such force, that I can actually see it move in the doorframe. He's yelling for me to let him in, every other word out of his mouth is an obscenity.

I'm not sorry for what I did. I don't begrudge him getting some; he just needs to keep that shit out of the living room. I'll never be able to touch anything in there again, who knows what they were on.

I've had it with his badgering.

I scramble to the door and yank it open. He immediately stops the noise when I level him with a stare that could melt steel.

He actually moves back a step.

I don't give him time to speak. He said enough as he tried to beat down my door.

"Look. I know this is _your_ house. I appreciate your brother giving me his bed and his room, but I'll be damned if I'm going to tolerate your shit going down outside my door at 2am." I open my mouth to continue my tirade, I have a few scathing comments lined up, but I think better of it. Instead, I slam the door in his face. I lock it again and climb into bed. I think of the hours I need to work to be able to reach the money I need to save in order to move out and before I know it, I'm waking up to a new day.

Our regular customers have missed me and my tips are proof. Aside from knowing I've been sick, no one was given any more details than necessary and I'd like to keep it that way. Until I'm knocking ketchup bottles over with my humongous belly, I'm not even going there.

I've somehow made it through this God forsaken holiday weekend and I'm enjoying a few minutes off of my feet in the back before we lock up for the night. The restaurant is empty and all my tables have been cleaned. I'm just waiting for that magic moment when the clock reaches 9 and Aro begrudgingly locks the front door. I whisper encouragement to the clock, coaxing the second hand to pulse just a bit faster. It's almost there and I'm slinging my bag across my chest when I hear the front door chime.

"Son of a bitch."

I'll tell anyone who'll listen that Aro was the inspiration for SpongeBob's Mr. Krabs. The man never met a dollar he didn't like and if we had to stay until 11 for a customer who walked in one minute before closing, it was ok with him.

Angela comes through the doors and smirks.

"Tell me some asshole did not pick one of my tables out of the whole empty restaurant to sit at."

She just laughs as I toss my bag at her. I've done it to her before, laughing at her poor luck, so it's only fair she gives it to me, but it still sucks.

I'm struggling to tie my apron and walk at the same time, and I finally manage to look up in time to stop myself from walking right into Edward.

My heart stutters at the sight of him. It's only been a few days since I've seen him, but having him surprise me here makes me realize how much I've missed him. I'm a total fool.

Once my heart resumes beating, I urge it to calm. It seems I'm fairly excited to see him.

I go for a casual "What's up?" but I doubt I'm fooling anybody.

"I was sitting at Tanya's and I had a sudden craving for Aro's finest," he's smiling at me and I can't stop my own grin from spreading.

"Liar," I laugh, "there is no such thing."

I see a few people pause in front of the door and I quickly turn the sign to read closed and shut off the front lights.

I make sure I'm giving them an apologetic smile and hope it comes across as sincere. I'd hate for this to come back and bite me in the ass. We are closed but in Aro's eyes what I've just done is unforgivable.

I peak my head in the back to make sure Aro's really gone before I pull Edward in by the hand.

Angela asks if I still need a ride and Edward thanks her but tells her to go ahead home. She gives me a quick hug and my share of the day's counter tips. She tugs my ponytail as she passes and I turn to see her giving me an exaggerated wink.

Edward has seen the whole exchange and is chuckling beside me.

I ignore the heat racing up my neck and turn to the large refrigerator. I begin pulling out ingredients for sandwiches.

Edward comes up behind me and I begin handing him the extras I can't carry in one trip. We meet at the large table in the middle of the room and I lay out everything in an assembly line.

I look up at Edward expectantly, basically waiting for his order.

He blinks at me and I shrug.

"I've been doing this for so long, it's just second nature," I explain, a bit sheepish.

He takes the knife out of my hand and begins to build subs for us both.

"How was your day," he asks looking up at me as he hands me the plate holding my food.

I could fall asleep right now, my extreme nausea is almost gone, but it's been replaced by unrelenting fatigue. I don't tell him that, though. Instead, I tell him it was busy and how much everyone had missed me. His face is thoughtful as he watches me eat. I can't help but feel self-conscious and I wipe my face with my napkin.

I need to take the attention off of me.

"Why aren't you home with Tanya?" I immediately regret asking. It sounds so wrong, like I'm trying to remind him that he has a girlfriend. He's been nothing but platonic towards me and here it seems I'm making him out to be a bad guy because I've developed a crush.

If he feels uncomfortable he doesn't show it. He sighs and rubs his hands across his face and I notice the dark circles and tired sag of his brows. He looks as tired as I feel.

"She's in a late meeting. I can't stand being alone in her apartment, it just never feels right," he stops and pulls a pickle from his sub, "She's getting ready for another trip. She'll hate it but I just can't stay there. Do you think you can handle me sleeping on the couch again?"

I roll my eyes, "It's not me that will have the problem."

He chokes out a laugh, "Yeah, I heard about that."

"So did the neighbors," I laugh and tell him how old Mrs. Cope gave me the bitch brow the next day as I left for work. "She either thought I was the banshee or she was pissed that I interrupted her porn."

"She's an old bat," he admits, "and almost completely deaf. You could have been God and she would have been pissed."

"You shouldn't have to give up your bed for me," I blurt out, suddenly serious as I return to the couch conversation, "I'm not staying anyway. I should have a place in a few weeks." I'm not sure why I chose this moment to confess my plan.

Edward stares at his plate. "How's Emmett supposed to help you if you're not there?"

"Let's be real Edward, he's not the one helping me. You have a life to live and so do I. I can't continue to live off you, it's not right." It causes me physical pain to say the words. Edward makes me feel so cared for. It's a feeling I could get used to, even addicted to. He makes me want a life I never thought I'd have and never gave a thought to. It makes the impossibility even harder to take now that I've been given a peak.

We finish our dinner in silence. He's uncomfortable with something and it makes the atmosphere around us heavy, and our niceties forced.

Edward helps me clean up and we head out the back door.

"When do you work next?" he asks suddenly, still not looking at me, but at his feet.

"I'm off tomorrow, thank goodness," I say through a yawn.

He opens the door for me and I stifle a moan as my body curves into the supple leather, aching in a good way as the muscles in back relax.

Edward flips a switch beside me and the seat beneath me begins to warm. I could cry.

"Sweet, merciful heaven," I mutter, breathing deeply.

I try and keep my eyes open on the quick ride back to the apartment, but I wake to find Edward leaning over me through the door and unbuckling my seat belt.

"Come on, sleepy head," he whispers as he wraps his arm around my waist and guides me along.

I perk up just enough to make it to my room to change, and then back out to throw some clothes into the washer.

A glance towards the living room shows Edward on the couch, his head lolling against the headrest, and a stack of pillows and blankets beside him.

I'm not thinking of the possible repercussions of my actions when I grab his hand and pull him up from his seat. As much as I hate him having to sleep on the couch in the home he pays for, I really don't want to give up his bed.

"This is silly," I tell him, "your bed is big enough for the both of us."

He hesitates.

"I'm too tired to argue," I snap. I'm not mad; I'm just too damn tired. "I'll leave the door open. You decide."

He shuffles in several minutes later and lays down alongside me with is head at my feet and pulls his extra covers around him.

"That wasn't so hard," I whisper into the darkness and smile at his quiet huff. "We're friends, right?"

"Yeah," he agrees, giving my ankle a squeeze, "friends."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you to everyone reading. I appreciate you, even if you've run screaming for the hills after one chapter. It's still unbeta'd. Sorry.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns it all, but this is mine.

Chapter 7

I knew it was coming. It's an inevitable part of this whole pregnancy thing, but I'm still woefully unprepared for the day I can't zip my jeans. It's been slowly creeping up on me. It began with a red mark across my hips when I took my pants off every night and progressed to only zipping and no button and now, I'm standing in front of the mirror turning from side to side, staring at the tell-tale baby bump that is tearing me from my favorite pair of jeans.

This is where Emmett finds me, crying in front of the mirror over the loss of myself. It's been several weeks now since the 'couch incident' and although he's getting better, the look of panic that crosses his face when he has to deal with me, and anything pregnancy related, is kind of funny.

"Ah. Shit, Bella. Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"No," I wail into my hands, "my jeans don't fit."

He hovers in the door way for a few more seconds before he backs away muttering something about calling Edward.

I don't know why he's bothering to call him; Edward is already on his way. For once, Angela and I have a night off at the same time and we're going out. I was so excited to actually do something except sleep. Lately, my social life has consisted of whatever interactions I can get at work.

When Tanya's at a late meeting or out of town, Edward meets Ben up at our work and they hang around while Angela and I close up. By that time I'm too tired to do much else but whine, so Edward brings me home. I've become boring at the ripe old age of 19. I text Angela to say they should all go without me. I can imagine her calling me a drama queen as she reads my text, but I can't seem to care.

Edward finds me lying face down across the bed when he arrives. Emmett must have filled him in on my meltdown, because he doesn't ask. He just sits down and begins playing with my hair. He knows there is no sense in trying to reason with me, so he lets me cry it out until I sit up, puffy eyed and filled with chagrin.

He pulls me towards him, guiding my head to his shoulder, all while he continues weaving his hand through my hair. I love the feel of his hands on my scalp and the gentle tickle of his fingers as they brush my neck on each pass. I'm covered in goose bumps.

I wrap my arms around his waist and give him a quick squeeze in thanks. I love how attentive and affectionate Edward is towards me, even if it's a product of friendship. I find myself thinking, and not for the first time, that Tanya is a lucky woman.

When I'm sufficiently calmed, Edward moves to the kitchen and I dig through the clothes I have, trying to find something that doesn't make me look like a frump. I know, we're only going to dinner and movie, but I'm just not ready to graduate to yoga pants full time yet.

By the time Angela and Ben arrive, every article of clothing I own is strewn across the room, and I'm standing clueless among the mess.

Angela rushes in and closes the door; in her hand she's holding a single hair tie.

"Put your jeans on," she demands, her eyes bright.

I look at the small elastic in her hand, "Are you high, Clairee?" I yell in my worst southern accent.

"Shut up and do it. I was looking up ways to stretch your clothes and I found this on some forum." As she's talking, she loops the tie through the button hole and then uses the open band to secure the button. My stomach is exposed in the gap left by the open zipper, but it works to hold my jeans up and it's surprisingly comfortable.

My mouth hangs open in amazement.

"There," she nods, inspecting her work, "you just need a longer shirt to cover it, but now you can wear your jeans a little longer."

I can't stop the grateful tears that fill my eyes, it's the dumbest thing to cry over, but it seems to be the theme of the night.

She smiles and rolls her eyes. I've never been a weepy girl type, but I think Angela secretly enjoys seeing my mushy side. "Knock it off and put this tank on."

It just long enough to cover the improvised change but it's a bit tight, highlighting my bump and now ample chest.

Angela rummages in Edward's closet where most of his clothes still hang, and comes out carrying one of his older looking flannel button downs.

I shrug it on, and after a few adjustments on her part, I'm almost ready to go for the night.

"You're pretty handy to have around," I tell her reflection as I study myself in the mirror. She smiles. She's made it so the effects of the parasite are only obvious if you look really close, while my chest is tastefully accentuated.

I feel normal and kind of pretty.

I gather my hair into a messy bun, throw on some eye-shadow and mascara, and Angela and I emerge from my room, victorious.

Everyone tries to make the night all about me, asking my opinion on everything from the movie snacks to the restaurant. Ben and Edward are goofy to the point of being obnoxious, racing each other along the sidewalks and giving each other piggy back rides.

Angela and I can't stop laughing long enough to let them know their being total idiots, and it only encourages them anyway.

By the time Edward and I make it back home I'm exhausted, but in the best way. Emmett passes us on his way out for the night.

"Mom and Dad's tomorrow," he reminds Edward, "I won't be out long."

Edward gives a quick head tilt in my direction, and raises a brow at Emmett. The intent is obvious and my palms begin sweating. I'm not ready to meet the parents just yet. I'm not consequential enough to ruin a perfectly good Sunday.

Emmett's voice takes on a rehearsed quality when he asks me if I'll go with them.

I can't even make up an adequate excuse. After all, it's only fair that they should meet the person carrying their son's parasite.

I swallow my fear and nod. What's the worst that could happen?

"Tanya will be there, too." Edward murmurs beside me, his head resting close to mine. I'm sure he means to give me comfort but in my mind it's more of a warning. Women are perceptive when it comes to other women. She'll sniff out the crush I have on her man in no time flat. Angela has already warned me that Edward would already know if guys weren't so oblivious.

I swallow my paranoia, "Great, it'll be good to see her again." It won't be, though. I've come to crave Edward's comfort like a drug. I don't know what I'm going to do without his touch to calm me. It's going to be hard enough facing the parents. It's even worse that now I'll be technically doing it alone. I realize I've put too much faith in Edward's presence. This isn't about us in any way. His friendship is just a byproduct of this fucked up situation, and counting on someone who can't and shouldn't be my rock is a huge mistake.

I run my fingers along the swell of my stomach beneath his shirt. The soft touch of the worn cotton against my skin is like a security blanket and I couldn't bear to take it off. He may not realize it, but this shirt is mine now.

"Can I see?" he whispers and my hand stills.

I open the bottom buttons to reveal the taut skin underneath. The moon filters in through the curtains giving just enough illumination to see his eyes widen as he takes in the sight before him.

He reaches forward then stops just before he touches me.

"Have you felt the baby move?"

My heart stutters at his words: The Baby. All this time, I've distanced myself from the situation to the point where I can't even think of anything long term, let alone the fact that there is a person growing inside of me. To me, it's been a parasite. A consequence of a one night stand. A mistake.

Humanizing it makes it real.

"Sometimes, I think," my voice falters as I feel his fingers ghost across my exposed skin, "I think I do, but it just feels like a muscle twitch."

A warm tingle builds and spreads throughout my chest as I watch him splay his fingers across my stomach. His pale fingers blend so effortlessly with my own skin tone in the washed out light of the moon and I want him to never stop touching me.

For the first time, I fully regret my situation, and only because it brought me to him.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you all for reading. It's still unbeta'd. Have a safe and happy 4th to those celebrating.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns it all except this. This is mine.

Chapter 8

I would have thought that walking in on your boyfriend in bed with another girl would make any normal woman scream and rant in a jealous rage, but Tanya's is a quiet fury.

Edward is already heading out into the living room by the time it dawns on my just how bad this must have looked. Tanya continues to stare at me. I'm not sure what she's looking for, guilt maybe? She won't have to look hard.

He fell asleep with his arm draped across my torso and my freezing feet between his calves. I can only imagine how intertwined we were by the time she walked in.

She turns and follows Edward's lead.

The sun is just breaking through the steely gray of dawn as I pad slowly into the living room. I feel as though I've swallowed a large ball of ice cold steel and by the time I take my seat, I'm shivering. Edward pulls the couch blanket around me and stands across from Tanya with his arms crossed.

They seem to be having some sort of silent stand-off, both of them stubbornly holding their ground. I'm so anxious waiting for someone to say something, that when Tanya finally speaks, I visibly startle.

"So, this is why you moved out?"

Edward, rubs his hands up and down his face, exhaling loudly, his frustration obvious, "I was never living there, Tanya. Not to mention, you're never there, either."

"Semantics," she states, as she waves her hand in careless dismissal. "What does this one need from you? How does she feed your compulsion?"

Edward's cheeks redden and he presses his lips together so hard they whiten around the edge. I've never seen him so angry.

Tanya lowers her voice and walks slowly towards him, her arms reaching for him. She's changing tactics.

"I just wanted to come by and surprise you, like I used to…" her lips pucker in a pout and Edward tenses and keeps his hands firmly by his side.

She cuts her eyes in my direction, looking for a reaction. I keep my face as passive as possible when I really just want to laugh. It's like watching a horrible soap opera.

He steps back, pulling free from her hands. "Jealousy doesn't suit you."

Her face transforms, turning an unhealthy shade of crimson. "Don't you patronize me," She seethes, "I "don't need you."

A wry smile turns Edward's lips, "You're right. I used to find that so appealing."

"Silly me," she laughs, her eyes crinkling over a cruel smile, "This isn't about your issues, is it? I never pegged you as one to go after your brother's sloppy seconds, though."

My vision clouds and I'm off the couch before I even think to move. Edward catches me and holds me to him. Emmett seems to appear out of nowhere blocking me from Tanya as well.

Emmett's usually loud voice is deadly quiet, "get the fuck out of here, now."

Tanya's taunting confidence is gone, but she slams the door on her way out.

I sag against Edward as the adrenaline drains from my body he manages to get us back to the couch and sits beside me, his arms still circling me.

"Dude, what the fuck was that?" Emmett asks, turning towards Edward.

"Shut up, dick," Edward reaches over me and gives Emmett a shove before he gets up and stalks to his room.

I'm not exactly sure what's happened, but I definitely don't feel guilty about my feelings for Edward, and I'm pretty sure I won't have to worry about Tanya being at dinner tonight.

Emmett punches me lightly on the shoulder and when I turn towards him, he gifts me with a large, reassuring smile.

"Good riddance," he sighs, "Edward is much less uptight when she's not around."

"Em, how did your parents react? When you told them…"

"It'll be fine, Bella. Don't worry."

I can't help but continue to worry, though. There's no section in "What to expect when you're expecting" about meeting the parents of your baby daddy.

I'm nervously pulling on the hem of my shirt when Emmett finally pulls into to the Cullen driveway. Edward and I had only been waiting for a few minutes, but it seems like forever considering my nerves and Edward's unusual silence.

He glances in his rearview mirror and curses. I struggle to look behind me, silently panicking and thinking Tanya has shown up after all, but he has my door open and is offering me his hand to get out before I can see what caused his outburst.

"Are you kidding me?" I'd recognize that screech anywhere, especially after I was subjected to it when she carried on like a cat in heat outside my room several weeks ago. "Emmett, you said you wanted me to meet your parents. Why is she here?"

"Jesus, Em. Are you trying to kill Bella? Do you ever think past yourself?"

"I've got this, Edward," Emmett mutters as he pushes past us and heads up the porch steps.

The house isn't huge, but it's big enough to fit in well with this side of town. The large windows spill light onto the manicured lawn and I'm slightly calmed by the welcoming feel of it all.

Edward ushers me up the stairs, his hand securely on my back. The door swings open and I take a large breath as we all walk into the foyer.

Their mother is not much taller than I am and doesn't look old enough to have raised grown men. At this moment, she only has eyes for her boys and she wraps her arms around them, holding them each in a fierce hug.

When she releases Emmett, she turns to his girlfriend holding both hands out to her. "You must be Rosalie! Emmett has told me so much about you. I'm Esme; it's so nice to meet you."

Rosalie smiles and kills with her charm, which apparently turns on and off like a switch.

Esme turns to me and looks between Edward and Emmett expectantly. Her curiosity is so sincere that I suddenly realize she has absolutely no idea who I am. While Emmett has told her all about his current flame, she has no idea why I'm here.

My eyes widen in panic and I stutter gracelessly, completely overwhelmed by the situation in front of me. I should at least tell her my name, but I can't even talk. I'm mortified and utterly livid with Emmett.

Her eyes are sweeping over me and I can sense the moment she notices my belly because they widen for a split second before she reigns in her shock.

Behind me, Edward cuffs Emmett upside his head and begins a verbal lashing that would make Andrew Dice Clay blush.

It's at this moment that their dad appears, carrying a drink and smile that falls when he sees the scene before him.

I want to find a small corner somewhere and crawl into myself. I feel my cheeks heat and my nose and eyes begin to burn. I bite my lip to stem the onslaught of tears.

Their mother gently pulls me to her, wrapping me in her arms. It doesn't take much of Edward's rant to clue her in on what's going on. "Oh, Emmett," She sighs, dejected.

I feel Edward come up beside me, and the gentle touch of his fingers along my hip.

I can only imagine what all this must look like to Edward and Emmett's father. He's still standing in the doorway, his drink forgotten, and a comical look of total bewilderment furrowing his brow.

"Let's go into the living room," Esme encourages, motioning everyone forward while keeping one arm draped motherly across my shoulders, "Carlisle, I need a drink."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: A fond hello to my Anon reviewers! Thank you for reading. This is still unbeta'd.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters. The story, however, is mine.

Chapter 9

Dinner is eaten as we sit interspersed between the couches and chairs in the living room. It's intentionally casual and we talk of mundane things as we ate, all of us waiting to address the elephant in the room until after we've eaten. Before serving, Esme declares that there is to be no serious talk until our food had been eaten.  
"There's no sense in letting a perfectly good meal go to waste because everyone is too busy being pissy to eat," she'd explains to the room after Carlisle places a large lemonade-looking drink in her hand.

Any question of whether I can put aside my emotions and eat, are quickly put to bed when I inhale the heavenly aroma coming from the piping hot bowl of soup that is placed in front of me.

When she's sure everyone has finished eating, Esme comes to stand in front of Rosalie. She offers her hand, and even though she looks obviously confused Rosalie accepts it and stands.

"Rosalie, it was a pleasure meeting you, but I'm afraid we have some family business to take care of. I'm sure Emmett will be happy to take you home," she then turns to Emmett, addressing him, "And come back as quickly as possible." The look on her face gives no room for argument. Emmett looks at the floor but nods his head. I can't imagine he appreciates being treated like a child, but at least I know there is someone he actually listens to. I have a feeling, that with is mother's involvement, things can only get better.

Once Rosalie and Emmett are out the door, Esme turns her attention to me.

"Let the men clean up and get dessert, Bella. I'd love to show you around, if that's ok?"

I'm not sure why, but I look over at Edward. He hasn't met my gaze all night and now is no different. He's always been there for me so willingly, even though I never asked. It makes this new indifference towards me today especially hurtful. I make a mental note to ask him about it later, then turn and follow Esme to the kitchen.

Their house is lovely, of course. It's obvious that Esme takes pride in her family and her home. I shake off a sudden stab of jealousy. My mom may have been absent from my life, but I turned out ok - current situation notwithstanding.

We end up descending into the finished basement, which is obviously going through a transformation. Furniture is bunched together towards the center of the large open area in front of us, and covered in sheets. Esme directs me to a door on our left, and we enter an office that doubles as a craft room. Family pictures line the wall and she proudly describes the moments captured in each one. A tiny Emmett walking next to a small Edward on a beach in the Caribbean, baseball teams through the years, braces, and proms.

We sit side by side in front of her desk, and here I notice a smaller picture separate from the rest.

A young man and young girl stand together in this picture, and from a distance it looks like a loving, happy couple. Esme notices me looking and places the picture in my hand.

It's a younger version of a very pregnant Esme, and the man I can only guess is Emmett's father. I'd recognize the hair and dimples anywhere. In the picture, Esme has a small smile on her face, but as I look closer I notice that it's forced and fear lights her eyes. The man's arms are possessively wrapped around her shoulders, too close to her throat.

This was not a happy couple. I don't know what to say as I place the frame back softly on the desk.

"It was a long time ago," Esme looks at the picture and rubs her arms as if she's cold, "I keep that picture to remind me of how hopeless and alone I felt that day. I felt like all I did was make one mistake after another."

I nod my head, knowing, to some extent, how she must have felt. I'm not exactly the poster child for the perfect young miss. I was aimless before all of this, but I wasn't bringing anyone along with me on my sinking ship. Now, we're all floating along among the wreckage.

"But then, Emmett was born, and I knew that everything I thought had been a horrible mistake had resulted in this perfect bundle, and I couldn't tell myself it had all been a mistake anymore."

Now this, I can't relate to. I can't imagine feeling anything maternal towards the parasite. I'm not even sure I know how.

She knows how I feel though, even without me saying anything. I can see it in the way she looks at me and pats my hand. I feel a connection to her, a mysterious pull and before I know it, I'm out of my chair and hugging her.

She gives a startled "oof" but returns my hug with vigor.

By the time we return upstairs, Emmett has returned and he and Edward are sitting red faced in front of an equally red faced Carlisle.

"I, um… I figured the boys could use a brush up on how to use a condom." Carlisle stammers eliciting a snort from Esme.

By the end of the night, I'm still uncertain about my possible future as a mother, but Esme has given me some amazing resources and we have a lunch date tomorrow that includes visiting the Women's Crisis Center where she volunteers her time.

This time, Emmett drives me home. He doesn't open my door for me like Edward does, and I mentally slap myself for comparing the two. It's not like I can't open a door for myself, anyway. I wanted to talk to Edward tonight; I guess it will just have to wait until I get home.

I expect to feel weird as Emmett drives us home. After all, the last time we were in a car together was on our way to his place after getting blazed out of our minds.

I laugh in disbelief causing him to glance my way, "how did you even make it home that night?"

"Right?," he laughs as well, "we were so gone."

We chuckle for a few minutes before going quiet again.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. I can feel the sincerity in his words and I nod in acceptance.

He's not one for grand gestures and saying the right thing, but that's ok. Those two simple words from him mean more to me than anything.

I'm disappointed when I don't see Edward's car in the lot. I'm not sure where he ran off to when he left his parents and I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to stay awake tonight.

I wrap myself in his shirt and curl around his pillow. I lay my phone by my head and stare at the screen, willing it to light up with his call or text. I know it's wrong. He has no responsibility to me, but he's been such a constant for me in the past several weeks, that now, alone in his bed, I miss him.

I type out _my feet are cold_, but fall asleep before I can get up the nerve to hit send.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Sorry for the wait. It's still unbeta'd

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns it all, but this story is mine.

Chapter 10

I awaken sometime later when I feel the bed shift beneath me. I know it's Edward when his arm slides underneath my side and he begins to turn me towards him. I take a deep breath, but keep my eyes closed. He carries the faint scent of cigarettes and spring rain. His cool hands feel amazing against my sleep warmed skin and I hum in contentment. I feel him skim his nose along my neck and the warm rush of air as he breathes out.

"I can't stay away from you, Bella," he whispers.

"So don't," I answer, opening my eyes to find we're almost nose to nose.

He leans in, brushing his nose against mine and I feel his breath hot against my lips. My stomach bottoms out and my heart rate spikes when I feel the gentle pressure of his mouth against mine.

I open myself to him and he draws me closer, cradling me lovingly against his body while his kiss hints at hidden passion.

He breaks away, but keeps me close. Part of me questions what is happening, but I can't bring the rest of me to care. I've never been kissed so thoroughly and I want more.

He begins to play with the ends of my hair and his face becomes serious. I reach over and trace the line of his jaw from the bottom of his ear to his chin. He continues to stare at me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else.

"Talk to me," I whisper, lacing my fingers with his and bringing our hands to my chest, "where have you been?"

"I'm sorry for today," he begins, "she was wrong about you."

I nod but keep my face turned towards our hands and his long fingers that are wrapped up in mine.

"But, I wondered at first, if maybe she was right. That I was drawn to you because of my 'compulsion'."

I open my mouth to argue, but he continues speaking, his words bubbling forth, unstoppable.

"I could barely stand it. I couldn't stand being in the same room with you without being able to touch you in some way, or really look at you. I could barely breathe."

"I thought you were upset with me about ruining your relationship with Tanya," I admit "I ached to think I'd lost your friendship."

"Is that all I am?" he asks, teasing me. He has to know.

My cheeks burn and it's not quite dark enough for him not to notice. He raises his hand to touch my cheek and I duck my head, suddenly self-conscious.

"No, you're more to me." I whisper.

He nods and a small smile lights his face, "and you're more to me."

When I wake in the morning to an empty bed, I think for a second that I imagined the whole thing. I run my hand over his side of the bed and find that it's still warm. My cheeks hurt under the strain of my smile.

I find him in the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge wearing nothing but his sleep pants. I ogle him, and when he turns to me, I relish the fact that I don't have to hide my desire. We meet in the middle of the tiny kitchen and he wraps me in his arms. I can't help the moan that escapes. Being in his arms is my favorite place to be, especially when his hand dips below the tail of my shirt.

"Why do I feel like I'm about to be on an episode of Springer?" Emmett asks, yawning around the words, "I can see it now 'I love my baby daddy's brother'."

Edward mutters "dick", and I can't help but laugh as I bury my face in Edward's chest.

Emmett waves his hand in our direction, he seems ok despite his scowl "I'm too tired to think about how I feel about this."

"How _you _feel about this?" my voice raises in anger, "you're such an idiot. This has nothing to do with you."

A knock at the door rescues Emmett from any more of my wrath and he gratefully runs to answer it.

Esme's 'hello' rings out and my eyes go wide; she's early and I'm half naked in the kitchen. I swear under my breath and hope she doesn't notice my lack of clothing as I skitter through the living room on my way to shower and change.

After a quick breakfast, Edward gives my hand a quick squeeze as he leaves me with his mother and heads into work.

Esme seems more embarrassed than I am as she apologizes again for being early while on the drive to the center, "I should know better than to show up unannounced," she says shaking her head at herself "it's just, something has come up at the center…"

"It's ok," I reassure her, again, and she looks relieved. I get the feeling that she's trying to impress me and I'm not sure why. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

The Center, it turns out, is not just some light volunteering for Esme. She runs it. Everyone we pass greets her warmly and she refers to me affectionately as 'My Bella'. Girls and women in various stages of pregnancy and motherhood congregate in a large common area, allowing me a glimpse into the extent of what she does for others like me.

As she continues the tour, she points out offices and services provided: job, housing, and childcare assistance, as well as, pro bono lawyers to assist with custody and child support issues. Each doorway we pass is welcoming and every face is kind.

I'm overwhelmed in the best possible way when she finally ushers me into her office and offers me a seat on a large couch. I sink in and swear I'm never getting back up.

"Bella," she begins, "I brought you here because I want to help you in any possible way. I know you have a lot to think about, but if I can ease you of any burdens, I will. What you decide after the baby is born, is between you and Emmett. Regardless of my connection to the situation, I will help you with whatever decision works for you both." She smiles, and the business like seriousness melts from her face and her eyes brighten in excitement. "Now, the 'something' that has come up is very exciting, but it's leaving me in a bit of a lurch."

As if on cue, there's a knock on the door and a dark haired woman glides in, a tiny bundle strapped across her body in a sling. Esme jumps up and practically runs towards her, her arms open wide. Their foreheads meet gently as they embrace and look lovingly into the fabric crossing her chest. After a few moments, Esme calls me over, and beaming, introduces me to Alice.

"Alice, was my assistant," Esme explains, "she came here and is now moving on to bigger and better…"

Alice laughs, but admiration and love are clear in her eyes even as she gives them a quick roll at Esme's fussing.

"Well, Texas is certainly bigger," she says as she sits on the couch. She loosens her sling and gently guides her newborn into Esme's waiting arms. I can't help but gasp, he's so ridiculously small. His head is covered in a fine dusting of pale blonde fuzz. His fingers are long and thin and tighten around Esme's pinky. I reach forward, and my finger grazes his miniature toes. His foot recoils reflexively and I look nervously at Esme and Alice thinking I've done something wrong.

"Don't be scared, sweetie," Alice reassures me, "JJ sleeps like a log. During the day, anyway."

As Esme and Alice chat, I watch as she tends expertly to JJ and catch snippets of their conversation. Alice is detailing her upcoming move and her apprehension of living with her husband's family as he recovers. Alice's husband, Jasper, was sent overseas the day after their wedding and has just returned home after being injured in a roadside bombing. Alice spent her entire pregnancy alone never knowing when or if her love would come home.

Her story makes me realize just how lucky I've been despite the circumstances, and I look to Alice as a lesson in perseverance and strength.

Alice leaves shortly after, promising to keep in touch with Esme and giving me her contact information offering her help in any way.

Over lunch, Esme offers Alice's vacated position to me. It offers better pay and benefits than Aro's and I wouldn't be spending all day on my feet. It's deliciously tempting.

As she drops me off at work, I tell her I'll think about it, but by the end of the night, when I'm practically crawling into Edward's waiting car, I know my answer.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Hello again! Thank you for reading. It's still unbeta'd and I'm sick, so I hope it makes sense.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters, but this story is mine.

Chapter 11

I call Aro the next day and give him my notice. I know I should be giving him a full 2 weeks, but I can't imagine putting myself through that hell much longer, so I offer a week. I expect him to be a bit upset, but his tone makes me feel that he is beyond pissed. When I ask him to keep the news of my leaving to himself, he snorts loudly then hangs up on me.

"Fuck him," Edward says later after I relay the conversation to him, "don't go back there again. He doesn't even deserve a week."

I roll my eyes even though I'm tempted to let Aro hang.

We're getting ready for a night out with Ben and Angela. We move around our room in various stages of undress and it strikes me as very familiar. We're barely together and we already act like an old married couple. We may have addressed our feelings, but that's about it. Edward is still, if not more, openly affectionate and we go to sleep every night wrapped around each other with lips swollen from kissing. But that's it. I was happy with what I had, when I was taking anything I could get, but my body is on fire every time he's near and if he doesn't make a move soon, I will combust.

I run my finger along the exposed band of his briefs, and he freezes, one arm in his shirt. I brush my chest along the sliver of his bare back and he lets out a shaky breath before resuming his movements once again. I sigh in frustration and tears prick my eyes. It's not the first time I've wondered if my condition is a turn off for him.

He turns suddenly, grabbing my arms and lowering me onto the bed behind me. He kneels between my open legs and presses his hard heat between them.

His voice is strained, and his breath is hot against my ear, "Don't think I don't want you." He grinds against me, slowly, kissing me hard for emphasis.

I'm about to lose myself to his rhythm when he slowly pulls away, leaving me sprawled and panting on the bed.

"Hurry up or we'll be late," he says, grinning down at me.

"You're so mean!" I yell, tossing my shirt towards his head. He laughs as he leaves the room, but I don't miss the pained look on his face as he adjusts his pants.

I'm nervous as we make our way through the crowded restaurant to where Angela and Ben are waiting. I haven't told Angela I'm leaving Aro's yet, and I'm afraid she's going to be pissed.

Before we can sit down, Angela hops up and rushes towards me bobbing and weaving between servers and tables.

I'm not sure what has her so excited, but as her hand shoots out and hovers before my face, I get it. Her left ring finger is now encircled by a delicate gold band with a small diamond set in the center.

"Shut the fuck up," I bellow and wrap her in my arms. The restaurant is so busy no one pays us any mind, even as we bounce together with tears streaming down our faces.

Edward gives Ben the one arm man-hug and we all scoot in to the booth. Over appetizers Angela regales us with the story of Ben's proposal and then announces that she has even more good news.

"Ben has been accepted to NYU for his masters! We're leaving next month!" she squeals and even though her smile lights her face it doesn't reach her eyes. Her cheer is a bit forced but I won't let her feel bad.

I try to keep my face from falling, I will my smile to stay put even though new tears have sprung. Angela has been my best friend for what seems like forever. Only two years older than me, she took me under her wing when I was a gangly pre-teen, and showed me how to act like the girl I wanted to be.

She passed on the things she learned from her mom and together we navigated our way through first loves and first losses, and now, she was leaving me.

I know I don't fool her, but I keep up the brave front anyway and for the time being we let it slide. There is no sense in both of us weeping at the table.

"We're going to the courthouse in 2 weeks," Ben says, "we'd love for you both to be there for us."

Edward grasps my hand and gives it a small squeeze, "We wouldn't miss it for the world."

Later that night, Edward holds me as I sob into his shirt and he tries his best to calm me with promises of flying Angela out for the baby's birth and other smaller idiocies. By 2am he's sat through two chick flicks and watched me eat a pint of ice cream.

The credits of the last movie have run through and we're swallowed by the darkness that follows the click of the remote. He lifts my chin, gently tilting my face towards him. My head swims, desire and fatigue circle each other like fighters in the ring. His hand is in my hair, pulling me closer to him until I'm flush along the length of his body. I fist his shirt with one hand while I grab at the back of his neck with the other one. He groans a low, gravelly sound and chaos ensues. His shirt is off and I'm clawing at his back as he attacks my neck while trying to work through the buttons on my shirt. I feel the fabric give way and hear the tap of plastic as a few buttons bounce off the coffee table.

I'm straddling Edward and his hands are cupping my bare breasts when the front door crashes open and an inebriated Emmett stumbles in, his girlfriend in tow.

He looks over at us and I'm praying the shadows offer enough cover and his brain is too hazy to fully grasp what he's staring at. It's not like we have anything to hide, but I'm not real keen on the idea of them seeing me topless.

Emmett offers a lopsided grin and a thumbs up, "stay classy," he slurs before shutting his bedroom door.

I bury my face in Edward's neck. Mortified doesn't even begin to cover how I feel. I'm so sexually frustrated I could cry, but the moment is gone. Edward holds my shirt closed and we stumble our way to bed.

It seems like the couch is off limits for everyone and Emmett and I are now even.

My last shift at Aro's goes by in a blur. It's Angela's last shift as well and now I know why Aro was less than thrilled when I told him I was leaving. His daughter Jane is taking my place and ignores every tip I give her during training.

After countless attempts to help her, I stop caring. Let her dad deal with the brat he's raised. I clock out for the last time and join Angela out front. We haven't had a chance to really talk since her announcement, so we're having a girl's night. It's kind of a bachelorette party, but not. She's not into strippers and I can't get plastered.

Instead, we camp out on her couch in our pj's and gorge ourselves on takeout. We're laughing over disturbingly bad porn when I present her with her wedding gift. It's the tackiest lingerie I could find, and now that it's off the hanger, I have no idea how she'll even know how to wear it without cutting off circulation to important places.

"I got something for you, too," she says as she jumps up and heads towards her room. When she returns, she hands me a small box wrapped in pink and blue paper, and places a small cake on the table in front of us.

"Happy… parasite," she cheers as she raises her glass.

I rip open the box and pull out a onsie with "Whose tit do I have to suck to get a drink around here?" written across the front and a pacifier that looks like buck teeth.

We laugh until there are tears streaming down our faces and our sides ache.

I realize now, that I'll never have a friend as good as Angela, and no distance between us will change what we have. In the quiet that surrounds us when our laughter dies down, all I have to do is look at her, and she knows. She gives me a small nod, acknowledging the understanding between us and I know we're ok.

We'll miss each other like crazy, that's obvious. We're both moving on with our lives, becoming adults in our own way. Even though we'll no longer be doing it side by side, we're still doing it together.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: It's probably a huge mess. I'm sorry. It's obviously still unbeta'd and I thank you for putting up with that. Hello and thank you to all my new readers!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns it all, but this story is mine.

Chapter 12

Angela's wedding is a small affair. Ben's and her parents are there, of course, and Edward and I stand as witnesses. After they exchange vows at the courthouse, we all gather at her parents' house for the reception. I'm not sure what I expected, but I'm overwhelmed when we arrive at the house which is overflowing with Angela's local family, neighbors, and classmates.

Edward takes my hand and begins to lead us through the door, but I hang back. I'm suddenly in no hurry to join my best friend's party. I pull on Edward's hand and he stops when he feels my resistance.

Although, I'm younger, being Angela's friend placed me within her circle of friends. None of us would have hung out on purpose, but they put up with me for Angela's sake. By now, they should all know what's happened to me. Even outside the house, I can feel their eyes on me, and I know they're whispering to each other behind their hands. It shouldn't matter to me, but I'm suddenly very self-conscious. I tug on the hem of my dress which is suddenly too short and too tight across my belly.

Edward searches my face and I look down so he can't see the shame in my eyes.

"Oh, I see," he whispers, "we can leave, they'll understand."

I know they would, but I also know Angela would be hurt. I don't want my foolish pride to get in the way of one of the last times I'll see my best friend in lord knows how long. I give my head a quick shake to dispel the unease that threatens to take away from this special day.

This time, I lead the way, cross the threshold, and make my way into the party.

Several hours later, the house is clear and I'm beyond stuffed. Angela's mom created a cake that tasted as gorgeous as it looked, and after Ben and Angela finished wasting a good bit if it on each other's face, I enjoyed every crumb and part of Edward's piece. At this moment, I'm loving and hating everyone who offered me extra food and punch because I'm 'eating for two'. My initial fears were unfounded, or at least everyone behaved to my face. What they say behind closed doors is ok with me. With Angela off in New York, and me working with Esme, my chances of running into any of them are slim to none.

"I'm going to be a house by the time this is over," I moan as Edward pulls me off the couch. He places his palm against my belly, spreading his fingers wide and the parasite gives a quick jab. Edward jerks his head up, surprised eyes wide as saucers. I raise my hands as if to say "it wasn't me" and he barks out a laugh. Parasite gives another definite thump before going still. His grin holds so much joy, I can't help but smile back, even as tears fill my eyes.

I don't understand how he can be so excited over something that's not even his, when I can't feel anything but ambivalence, and even that takes a backseat to the paralyzing fear that turns my blood to ice when I even think of the parasite as a baby, a viable life, a 18-plus year responsibility.

How can I give this thing all it needs from a mother when I don't even know what that is?

"Are those happy tears?" Edward asks as his thumb caresses my cheek, his other hand still placed on my tummy.

"I'm ok," I manage and he quirks his eyebrow in question.

Angela comes down with the last bag, saving me from elaborating. I swear my mind picks the worst times to go into panic mode. They packed a tiny u-haul last night and are staying at a small bed and breakfast before beginning the cross country trip.

She looks at us, zeroing in on Edward's hand, and runs over with a squeal. She moves his hand and replaces it with hers. Crouching down in front of me, she begins to coo at my stomach.

"This isn't awkward at all, Ang." I laugh, and then suddenly burst into tears. I'm going to miss the shit out of her.

"Stop it," she wails, standing suddenly, and holding me to her in a bone crushing embrace.

"I can't do this without you," I sob.

"I'll be back. You know I will," she answers holding my face in her hands "you'll keep your legs crossed until I can get back here, you hear me?"

And just like that, we're laughing again.

Edward parks the car, but makes no move to get out. He toys with the keys deep in thought.

"I care about you, you know. So much," he says, his green eyes earnest, and intense as they hold mine.

"I don't ever want you to feel ashamed of who you are or what you're doing."

I nod in acknowledgment of his words. I don't want to be ashamed either, but it's easier said than done.

He leans over and gives me a soft kiss, I lean closer and wrap my hand around his neck letting him know he's not getting away that easy. I'm tired of playing around. He makes a startled noise, but is just as enthusiastic in his return. His kiss becomes more insistent as his hand moves higher along my thigh and dips under the hem of my dress. He gives my thigh a tight squeeze and I open my legs, inviting him to do… something. He doesn't need to be asked twice, his finger traces the edge of my underwear, sending a jolt through me. I moan against his mouth. His touch is making the heat between my thighs unbearable and I want to grab his hand and hurry things along. He finally pushes the fabric aside and has me arching against his hand and panting into his mouth in no time.

My legs are like jello and the windows of his car are heavily fogged when he opens the door and pulls me to him. He kisses me again, his hands groping, and his hard on digging into my hip.

I don't care if Emmett is home. At this point, I wouldn't even care if he sat and watched, but I'm going upstairs and getting laid.

I grab Edward's hand and begin pulling him towards the door of the building.

"Let's get naked."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Anyone else feel like this is going nowhere fast? Just me? Anyway, it's still not beta'd. Thank you all for not telling me how much it sucks.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns it all, but this story is mine.

Chapter 13

I'm sprawled across the bed with my feet draped over the edge. My dress is bunched around my waist and Edward is beside me as breathless as I am. His shirt is lying on the floor by the open door and his pants are half off.

We barely made it to the bed.

After I pulled Edward to the doors of the building, we rushed as fast as the elevator would allow up to the apartment. Edward had me pressed against the door with one hand up my dress as he unlocked it, much to Old Mrs. Cope's amusement. I caught her wink as she slowly walked by dragging her mini yorkie behind her. I always knew she was a freak.

When we finally made it through the door, and found the apartment unoccupied, Edward tried to bring me to the couch by tugging on the arms of my dress trying to lead me and free my chest at the same time.

I insisted the couch was bad luck and led Edward toward the bedroom. There he finally gained access to my breasts and began licking and sucking while I struggled to get his shirt off.

I tugged him up to me, impatient to have his mouth on mine, and more than willing to pass on any more foreplay, just this once. I tugged on the button of his jeans.

"I want you now," I growled against his mouth, tugging harder at the button that just wouldn't give. Without breaking the kiss, he reached down and unfastened his pants while pushing me towards the bed.

Finally free, he rubbed himself against me "this isn't going to be pretty."

"God, I don't care," I gasped. I was already so close to coming again, I didn't care if he only lasted one thrust.

He pushed forward and we both groaned at the feeling, relieved to be joined finally. I watched as his eyes closed and his head dropped back in pleasure. Seeing him come undone had me melting underneath him before he even began moving again.

"I'm really sorry," he says, his breathing calmer. He traces my exposed nipple with is finger, eliciting a squeal from me, "I swear, next time, will be better."

"Better?" I laugh, "I came, like, three times. Better may just kill me."

He finishes removing his pants and helps me out of my dress. He pulls the sheet over us and curls around me, our skin is sticky with sweat but I'm covered with goose bumps as he runs his hand lightly along my thigh and then moves his hand to cover my belly.

"Are you ok?" he whispers.

"Of course. Why?" I ask turning to see his face.

He looks at me, and I realize that he's not letting my earlier melancholy go.

I sigh, "It's so dumb."

"No it's not, I can tell you're trying to work through something, I just don't know what and it's killing me that I can't help you."

"This isn't something you can fix, Edward."

"Then, just talk to me or Esme. Are you worried about the baby?"

I bark out a laugh, "Worried about the baby? No. This parasite is perfectly fine."

He looks pensive as his finger traces my belly button. The parasite gives his finger a nudge and I wonder how it knows where to kick so that Edward feels it.

"It's just that, you and Emmett haven't talked about anything, you never seem interested in the baby…"

I turn away from him, making sure to create enough distance so his hand can't touch my belly again. "Stop doing that," I mutter, so suddenly, irrationally mad that tears begin falling in thick lines across my nose and onto the pillow.

"Stop what? What's the matter, Bella?"

I'm a fucking mess. A hormonal, confused, hysterical mess.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, ok? I'm not cut out for this and I don't want to think about what's going to happen when this thing is here and I don't know how to love it and Emmett won't love it. Babies should be loved. I'm no better than my mom, and I don't know how you can care for this thing and it's not even yours."

He sucks in a quick breath as though I've hit him. Edward rolls me to face him, but I can't look in his eyes. I hate that he always has to see me falling apart. He doesn't make me look at him, he just holds me tight as I ramble and sob into his shirt.

His voice is rough when he finally speaks, "This 'thing', is part of two people that I care about very much. You're both bound and determined to walk around like you're incapable of giving love because you've been failed in some way by someone who should have loved you. It's bullshit. If you don't want this baby then find someone who will. It doesn't make you a bad person and it won't change how I feel about you."

He gives me a kiss on the forehead before releasing me to head towards the bathroom. Moments later I hear the shower running. I lay there, ruminating over what he said. Do I really think that I'm incapable of love? And how did I let such a good day go downhill so fast?

I visit the adoption lawyer a few doors down from Esme's office the next day. She's a kind woman and has every answer I need for all the questions I can't even bring myself to ask. But she can't answer the one question I do ask. We discuss open versus closed adoption and she hands me a large manila envelope filled with information. She assures me it will help not only me, but the baby's father, to make the right choice. But she never tells me what that is. That's all I really want to know.

Esme has finished with her conference call and is waiting to take me out to lunch when return from down the hall. Lunches with Esme are one of the definite perks of working with her. It doesn't hurt that my work day is also over after we eat.

It's a gorgeous spring day, so we grab our greasy diner fare and head to the local park. We walk slowly, enjoying the sun on our faces and the cool breeze that gently caresses the sting it leaves behind. We find a bench and eat silently. I'm so absorbed in my own head that it takes Esme several tries to get my attention.

"I'm so sorry," I stammer when she finally resorts to waving her hand in front of my face. She laughs it off but I can tell she's dying to know my thoughts. She has to know what the packet I have contains, but she promised me once that she wouldn't try to influence my decision and I think that's what's keeping her from asking now.

"You have an ultrasound coming up, don't you?" she asks, trying to touch on what should be a safe subject. I nod slowly.

"You're not excited." It's not a question and I can't look at her, but I nod again.

She begins to speak, but her voice catches and she ends up whispering. "It's ok. You know that, right? You're not the first woman to feel that way."

I stare at the unfinished sandwich in my lap. My throat feels like its closing in and I can't even begin to explain anything I'm feeling or not feeling at the moment. I just want to crawl in bed and sleep for a long time.

"I flipped a coin." She blurts.

I'm stunned and slightly clueless as to what this has to do with what she's talking about. "What?"

She laughs, "I flipped a coin. When your decision is riding on that one action, you suddenly know exactly which outcome you want. Everything else was a bit more complicated, but at least I had one decision out of the way."

I laugh because the idea is so absurd to me. I can't base the rest of my life on heads or tails. Chance is what got me here in the first place.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Still unbeta'd. I love you all for reading this mess.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters but the story is mine.

The room is as cold and sterile. The walls are white and show every smudge, dent and what I think could have been a small spider at some point. The paper crunches beneath me as I shift restlessly. Part of me is anxious to see the parasite. The other side wants to run. My bladder is so full, it's cramping, just begging to be emptied. I grit my teeth and grimace. I'm being pushed to the breaking point under the weight of nerves and physical need. Edward laces his fingers with mine in reassurance. Esme sits beside him, looking between us adoringly. While neither of us really came out and said anything about being together, she somehow knows and I'm guessing by her look that she approves. When I asked her if she wanted to come to the ultrasound, I thought she was going to cry. I told myself that even if I don't keep the baby, it's still her grandchild and this may be important to her. I used the same logic with Emmett when I told him about the ultrasound and why he should come, but he just mumbled something about work and stalked off.

A knock on the door signals the arrival of the ultrasound tech, followed close behind by an unsure Emmett. If I hadn't been full to bursting with orange juice, I would have bolted upright at the shock of seeing him enter the room. He says nothing. He just comes to stand at the top of the table by my head and then faces the screen.

The tech raises her eyebrow at me before squeezing a large gelatinous pile of warm goo onto my exposed belly. The last time I saw the parasite, it looked like an alien. At Esme's gasp, I finally turn towards the screen. There it is. Its head is no longer bigger than the body and the tadpole-esque shape has given way to arms, legs, and a round belly. As the tech glides the wand across my belly, the parasite's profile reveals a tiny, turned up nose. It's definitely Emmett's nose in a miniature version. In an instant, I begin wondering what color the parasite's eyes will be. At this thought, my vision blurs and I imagine being here under different circumstances, happily viewing my unborn baby and anticipating blue or pink purchases. The tiny being in my mind grows, becoming a toddler with rioting dark curls, a lopsided grin, and dimples. As quickly as it appears, the vision is gone. A thumb wipes the traitor tear that escapes and rolls down my cheek. Emmett's finger lingers against my now flushed cheek, his eyes moving from the screen to my face. His eyes are bright and wide, and his face has turned a scary shade of pale.

Esme is sniffling into a tissue and squeezing my hand.

It's all too much. I feel myself becoming overwhelmed so I turn from everyone and face the screen again. I focus intently on the grainy picture and watch as a hand raises and I feel the motion as it happens.

"This one's feisty," the tech laughs as she continues to scan the baby while clicking the mouse and taking measurements. After a few more minutes, the tech turns to me and asks if we want to know the sex.

I turn to my audience. Emmett is still staring at the screen in wonder but he nods his head slowly, Esme beams in affirmation and when I finally look at Edward he gives a quick nod and a small smile.

I take a deep breath. This is the moment I hope will put an end to all my doubts and fears. I tell myself that if I can just think of it as a someone, then maybe I can want it.

I face the tech, "yes."

She moves the wand to focus on the empty space between the baby's legs.

"It's a girl!"

Esme gives an excited cry as she grabs Emmett and pulls him to her in a fierce hug. He hugs her back and hides his face in her shoulder. I'd give my left hand to read his mind in this moment.

Edward is beaming at me, his eyes glassy and bright. He moves closer and leans his forehead against mine. He places a small kiss on my nose before pulling away.

I feel nothing.

I scrape as much goo from my stomach as I can with the pile of cheap tissues the tech gives me. She hands me a long strip of pictures before leaving the room.

Minutes pass and even as Esme calls Carlisle, openly crying now, I still can't feel anything.

I begin to wonder if this is how my mother felt when she walked away from me, leaving me with my father. Did she think she could love me? Did she even try?

I allow everyone to usher me out the door and I automatically climb into the waiting car. Esme has the pictures and is pointing out features she thinks belong to me and the ones she says belong to Emmett.

I'm not sure if she's trying to make me feel better, but it's only making things worse. I want to love her. I want her to know she's wanted. I want to be able to give that to her. I don't want to be my mom.

My eyes widen at the thought as it slams into my conscious like a Mack truck.

If I let her go, she'll live her life wondering why I didn't love her enough to stay. Someone else will be calming her after nightmares and watching as she takes her first steps. I owe it to her to be there, because my mother wasn't. I don't want to be some flaky woman who remembers my daughter only when she has the time.

Slowly, I lower my hand to the growing curve of my abdomen and I caress the tight skin. The movement is alien to me. I've spent so much time actively avoiding the area, but now, I gently prod and poke until I get a response. A quick jab encourages me to give another push and she responds with an even harder thump.

I can't hide the giggle that pushes through my lips as we seem to trade jabs back and forth through the shield of skin.

I catch Esme watching me and she gives me a small smile. I warm under the attention and love I feel coming from her. She's been such a wonderful presence in my life in the short time that I've known her. She's become everything I didn't know I needed. Knowing she's in my corner gives me the strength I need to accept and continue walking the path I created the night I went home with Emmett.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**: Wow. Sorry about that. (I had to go out and get myself a J-O-B.) I can't promise I'll update anytime soon but I want you all to know I still appreciate every one of you even if you decide to jump ship. And it's still unbeta'd

**Disclaime**r: Stephenie Meyer owns them. I own these words.

Chapter 15

We're gathered in the kitchen talking. We've been waiting on Emmett for almost an hour and Esme is, in her words, whipping up something quick to eat. Quick to her obviously means a full dinner but she placed a plate full of cookies in front of me, so she can take all the time she wants. It's not like I won't be hungry soon. She's sliding a large dish of pasta into the oven when Emmett finally walks in.

He stands awkwardly in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he's not sure he wants to join us.

"Don't just stand there, Em," Esme chides, "come in and grab a cookie before Bella finishes them off."

She winks at me and I grab the plate and place it on my belly, possessively wrapping my arms around it while I shoot a playful glare at Esme.

Edward barks out a laugh and gives an affectionate squeeze to the foot I have placed in his lap. They're all laughing but I really have no intention of giving up these cookies.

Emmett makes it halfway into the kitchen before he asks if he and I can talk. His uncertainty is lending an odd feel to the room, and everyone falls quiet as they watch our exchange.

"Go ahead," I offer. I don't want to get up. There are still cookies on my plate and Edward is rubbing his thumb in circles along the arch of my foot.

"Bella, alone please?" he implores.

I roll my eyes, I can't imagine what he has to say that can't be said in front of everyone, but Esme begins shooing Carlisle and Edward out of the kitchen and soon we're alone.

There aren't many conversations between me and Emmett that don't end in a heated argument, so my defenses are already raised. To make matters worse, he's just standing there and my patience is wearing thin.

"What?" I ask. My tone is harsher than I intended but it gets his attention.

He pulls a small bag from behind his back and hands it to me. I'm such an ass. It's a simple bag, pink with tiny critters romping all over. I smile as I take it and immediately begin to untie the large bow. There is no way he picked this out by himself. My theory is confirmed when I pull the boutique card from the ribbon and finally look inside.

I pull out a bonnet so small, I can barely fit it over my fist. A pale pink ribbon is woven along the edge and intricate lace frames the outermost edges. Embroidered rose buds cover the remaining fabric . Tears fill my eyes as I pull out the matching dress and booties.

"I want her, Bella. I've never wanted anything so much in my entire life."

I gasp at the intensity of his confession and the sudden ache in my chest. My life was less complicated when he didn't give a fuck. I'm not sure how to answer him, but he continues.

"I don't deserve this. I've been so horrible to you… but I saw her today and I can't even explain it."

"I know," I whisper as I try to wipe the tears with the back of my hand before they fall on the beautiful dress in my lap.

"We're so wrong for all of this…" I confess but he shakes his head in disagreement, interrupting me before I can finish.

"No, that's the thing. I won't make the same mistake my dad did, Bella. I won't leave her I won't hate you. I want to be in her life."

I take a deep breath and finally look up at him. He kneels down so we're eye level. He's being honest with me. I want to trust him. I want my daughter to have both parents in her life, but I can't seem to let go of the resentment I've felt towards him since the day I told him I was pregnant.

I realize now, deep down, that I've always considered her mine and I don't want him sweeping in now to stake his claim.

But I grit my teeth to keep all the harsh thoughts I have from spilling out. Hating him won't get me anywhere but it's going to be a hard habit to break.

Dinner, for me, is not the festive affair it started out to be. Esme is still riding her post ultrasound high, and is in planning mode not that she's decided to turn an upstairs bedroom into a nursery and Emmett is peppering her and Carlisle with questions about pregnancy and newborns.

I want to 'accidentally' kick him under the table, but my legs are too short to make substantial contact without it looking obvious. I doubt it would derail his rambling mouth anyway.

He's like a child with a new toy and I wonder how quick his interest will fade once she's here and not safely encapsulated within my body. What's going to happen when he actually has to deal with her, not just the idea of her.

I'm exhausted by the time dinner is over and I can't wait to climb into bed with Edward wrapped around me. Edward is holding his car door open for me when Emmett approaches.

"I've got this now Edward, I'll take Bella home."

"We're all going to the same place, Em. I think I can handle it." Emmett's implication is clear but Edward plays dumb even as his eyes dare Emmett to battle it out now. Part of me is tempted to stand here and see this out, but I'm too tired to watch a pissing match while I freeze. I get into Edward's car and close the door instead, ending this particular standoff for the moment.

Emmett peels out of the driveway and Edward yanks his car door open and sits forcefully. He goes to start the car but stops himself. He sits quietly for several moments, his jaw clenched, both hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. I reach my hand over and rub the back of his neck, slowly trying to ease his tension. His shoulders sag and he places a hand on my thigh but his face remains tight.

"I'm not up for discussion, you know that, right?" I tell him and he gives a quick nod but remains focused on the trees before us.

"It's about you," he starts, "but it's also about her, the baby. I love her and you. I want you both." He finishes in a whisper.

I close my eyes and revel in his words. I will the warmth they create to cure the bittersweet, too-little-too–late ache that began in my chest when Emmett finally came around.


End file.
